The S+ Class Omega Takes Over Again [BL]-Chapter 49: Who’s stranger?

The attack might have been fruitless, but Kihyun did move away from him as Cheon Areum collapsed on the rocky ground, his claws dissolving. One hand slid beneath his wet shirt, pressing flat to the center of his chest. Fingers rubbed slow, desperate, random patterns over the spot where his core throbbed like an open wound—hot, swollen from forcing down three stolen essences and pushing his energy past every safe limit.

He breathed through his mouth—shallow, open, each inhale. His forehead dropped forward until it rested against cool, uneven rock; damp hair clung to his brow. His other arm wrapped loosely around his own ribs as though holding himself together. He sat on his knees as he caressed the area where his core was with weak fingers. He was already having a hard time trying to steady himself and didn’t even have the time to react to the press of lips to his own.

"If it wasn’t easy for you, then why did you come back for me?"

Kihyun asked him, still sitting in front of him, perhaps looking for the perfect timing to strike—but Cheon Areum still had one card left, especially for him.

"If you hadn’t fled, then I wouldn’t have to..."

He gritted out a response for him, and in the instant, strong hands closed around Cheon Areum’s upper arms—firm but careful—and lifted. Cheon Areum’s body came off the ground like it weighed nothing; Kihyun adjusted his grip in one fluid motion—sliding one arm under bent knees, the other curving behind his back until fingers locked tight over the opposite shoulder. Cheon Areum closed his eyes, clutching his chest reflexively, and pressed his head to the body close to him. His hand flew to his chest again—clutching at the burning core beneath skin and bone—while his forehead dropped forward, pressing hard against the warm hollow of Kihyun’s throat. Damp hair dragged across collarbone; blood from his torn forearm smeared a thin red line across Kihyun’s shirt. He curled inward—smaller, tighter—like he could disappear into the space between them.

Neither of them spoke for several long seconds as Kihyun walked somewhere with him.

"Rest easy. I will take you to the gate. You want to get out of here, right?"

"....."

As if he could believe him now. What was his goal here? Creating a situation where he could act like the male lead for Cheon Areum? It was all because of Kihyun that he was in this state.

"You think I’m going to let you carry me out of here like some damsel after I cleared the whole dungeon and you only retaliated against me?"

"I also didn’t want to do this. That’s why I gave you the option to come to me instead."

As Cheon Areum listened to him, he remembered Yoon Seoyul asking him why he wouldn’t ask for Yoon Seoyul’s help and thought this was the perfect opportunity to drag him in to help out.

"I will come to you on one condition."

Kihyun’s footsteps slowed before stopping completely.

"What is it?"

"Get rid of Yoon Seoyul. If he’s gone, I will naturally have no excuses for not coming over to your side."

There. It is Yoon Seoyul’s problem too, as much as it is his now. The thing is, if Yoon Seoyul was an easy target, then as an S+ Class it would have made more sense for him to go after Yoon Seoyul first if he knew Cheon Areum well. After all the stalking, he already knew that with Yoon Seoyul in the picture, Cheon Areum would never be his. So why had Kihyun targeted him? Surely he didn’t think Cheon Areum was weak. It was more so that he had no chances of winning against Yoon Seoyul.

As expected, Kihyun had no immediate answers for him. If he was confident, he would have agreed to the condition without a single pause. Pushing Kihyun’s chest with a heavy hand, Cheon Areum stubbornly tried to stand on his own feet. They were already back in the city.

"The free ride wasn’t bad. There’s still time before we get out of here. If you change your mind and decide to register as a hunter, I will forget what happened here. Think hard and long."

Cheon Areum pressed his palm flat against Kihyun’s chest—right over the steady thud of his heartbeat—and gave one firm, deliberate pat. The gesture was neither affectionate nor hostile; it was simply a full stop. A period at the end of a sentence neither of them had finished writing.

Then he let go.

He walked away without glancing back. Walking ahead, he closed the wound on his arm with threads of his energy and wiped his face with dry tissues from his inventory. Quiet footsteps followed behind him until they arrived at the first lake that came into view as they passed the open gate connecting the city.

What had been a mirror reflecting the moon when he’d entered was now a floating graveyard. Fish-head corpses bobbed everywhere—hundreds of them—pale bodies belly-up, eyeless faces turned skyward, gill-slits frozen open in silent screams. Some were torn in half; others simply floated, untouched but lifeless, as though their hearts had simply stopped mid-beat. The water had settled to a dull, viscous crimson, streaked with milky white from burst eyes and shredded muscle. The metallic reek was thicker here—almost sweet, like overripe meat left too long in the sun.

Cheon Areum pressed the back of his wrist hard against his nose, trying to block the thick, cloying stench of blood and rotting fish that saturated the air. He turned to Kihyun and spoke up.

"Can you throw me to the other side? I don’t know how to swim."

His wings hung heavy and useless from his shoulder blades, still wet, so he couldn’t fly over like he did before, and jumping the distance was laughable; the lake stretched wide here, far too broad for even his longest leap.

Kihyun stared at him for a moment but didn’t hesitate to come close to throw him to the other side, but Cheon Areum instead grabbed Kihyun’s wrist and used his idea on him. Spinning once, he launched Kihyun to the other side, making sure he landed. For himself, he could also just walk over the water with his energy hardening the water underneath his feet to save more energy, and to escape the smell he ran over to the other side in a hurry.

He didn’t give Kihyun time to stand, time to speak, time to breathe. One hand shot out—claws retracted but fingers steel-hard—and clamped around Kihyun’s throat. Not choking. Controlling. The grip was precise, unyielding, thumb pressing just under the jaw where the pulse hammered fastest. Kihyun’s eyes widened fractionally—surprise flickering before it smoothed into something calmer, almost resigned.

Cheon Areum flung him again.

He hurled Kihyun forward like a discarded weapon, using every ounce of remaining strength in his torn, shaking body. Kihyun’s feet left the ground; his body arced through the air in a single, clean line—arms half-raised, hair whipping back—before disappearing into the black maw of the exit. Cheon Areum followed in the same heartbeat.

He crossed the gate in three running strides—boots slamming stone, energy threads snapping wildly behind him like frayed lightning—then dove through the dark after Kihyun.

The dungeon’s dark gloom vanished; real sun poured in through the open gate mouth, bleaching everything white-gold. Kihyun hit the ground first—rolling once—before Cheon Areum was on him. Cheon Areum tackled him mid-tumble—knees driving into the soft earth on either side of Kihyun’s hips, pinning him flat. One hand slammed down on Kihyun’s forehead—palm pressing hard, fingers splaying wide to hold his skull still. The other wrapped around Kihyun’s throat—tight enough to feel the frantic pulse beneath the skin, not tight enough to crush the windpipe.

Kihyun didn’t fight.

He lay there—chest rising and falling steadily, dark eyes locked on Cheon Areum’s without blinking. No fear. No anger. Just that same quiet, unreadable watchfulness he’d worn since the ledge.

[Mind Corruption has been activated.]

[You are currently using the skill: Mind Corruption. Your ability to corrupt negative energy will be enhanced during its activation.]

Several other people who had been waiting outside the gate—hunters, guild staff, a few curious onlookers—hurried forward in a loose semicircle. Their eyes were wide, faces pale, voices overlapping in sharp alarm.

"Wait! Stop! What are you doing?!"

"He’s choking him! Mr. Cheon Areum, get off!"

They moved as one, hands outstretched to pull Cheon Areum away, to separate the blood-streaked man straddling Kihyun from the one pinned beneath him. Before any of them could close the distance—a familiar pressure rolled over the space.

Every person froze mid-step—knees buckling slightly, breaths catching, hands dropping uselessly to their sides. The instinctive submission was immediate, bone-deep, impossible to resist. Yoon Seoyul stepped into the circle and reached down. His hand closed around Cheon Areum’s wrist—the one still wrapped tight around Kihyun’s throat. He simply lifted it. Cheon Areum’s fingers uncurled instantly—reflexive, helpless—under the steady, unyielding pressure of Yoon Seoyul’s grip. The hold on Kihyun’s neck broke without struggle; Cheon Areum’s arm was guided upward as he glared down at Kihyun coldly.